It's a wise father
by Shamenka
Summary: Just an old response to an old challenge - by JayKay along the lines that Snape is found to be in possession of female body parts and they are 'in use! How did that happen - this is my response, and set well before the end of book 5, or simply totally AU


Disclaimer: I'm not JKR, or a film/book publishing company ergo not mine, nor is any money being made etc.

It is a wise father...

By Shamenka

**Then**

"Hahahahahahaaha! Heheehheehhe! Oh, fuck, that's possibly the funniest thing I've ever heard. Ever!" Trying to control himself, he had taken a deep ragged breath. "Tell you what, Snape, you take that half cell that's mine and you do exactly what you want to or with it. It is my wizarding gift to you. Only don't bother letting me know, it would take a far greater effort of will to pretend that I care than I think I'm currently capable of." He had turned his back on the very pale face of Severus Snape and started to walk away.

"So, as always, you wash your hands free of any involvement in this? How typical! And you were the one that assured me this could never happen, that the hexed portions of my body were as... as barren as a werewolf's balls, I do believe was your oh so delicate turn of phrase!" The bitterness in Snape's voice had halted his steps, but he didn't bother to turn around and look at his accuser.

"You didn't have to believe me. You were the one so desperate for human touch, for comfort..." he had been interrupted by possibly the bitterest voice he had ever heard, up until that moment.

"And what I got was you! Very well, I accept your wizarding gift and your clause, get out! Get out and never come back!" Snape had exerted a little power and opened the door before him remotely, showing him the way out.

In hindsight it had been so obvious that he had deeply hurt Severus - yet again. But at that moment he didn't know how to care, not even about himself, so Snape had no chance. All he had ever known was how to attack, so that was what he had done.

"Oh, but you can't do that, can't command that. You have no authority here, or anywhere..." again he had been interrupted, that second time the speaker was not Snape.

"Maybe he doesn't, but I do. Now, as Severus said, get out, never come back. Oh, and I witnessed your wizarding gift, and that god forsaken clause. There can be no retracting of your oath. Not this time!" Albus Dumbledore had moved from the blanketing shadows to confront him, face to face.

"But Albus..."

"Get out! Now!" Albus had pointed a single finger at him and placed a charm on his body, despite his suddenly reluctant steps he left Hogwarts, unable to even look back at what he had left behind him.

oOo

**Now **

That moment, the very second he had opened his mouth and uttered those deeply stupid words came back to haunt him. Every day he lived with them echoing in his heart. Hardly a week went by these days, or so it seemed, without the Daily Prophet slapping his face in his greatest ever mistake. It could be him in those photographs, laughing, happy, a family man. But no, it wasn't his face that looked at Severus Snape with love and laughter, it was Remus Lupin's. It was Remus that called Severus his soon-to-be husband, it was Remus that his child would call daddy, it was Remus that had taken his life, the one he had so carelessly thrown away.

It was Severus that had finally found the permanent blocker to Remus' monthly change. The man the Daily Prophet called the greatest potions master of their age, or any other age, had developed a system using muggle science and magic and his own refined potions that inhibited the transformation. A werewolf's blood and bite were still able to infect a living host, but even that would fade over the years with Severus' treatment. So wonderful Severus Snape was now the saviour of the beasts and monsters he had so long reviled. And no, the Daily Prophet didn't mention that either; all they talked about was the happy family they all made. The potions genius, the werewolf he loved and their daughter and always that damned treatment he had discovered.

Now no werewolf had to be outcast from their society ever again, unless he or she chose to be.

Just as Severus' soon-to-be husband never had to be separated from him or their daughter.

It was all so bloody romantic, and the Prophet loved every minute of it.

And no one ever seemed to care that werewolves were sterile creatures, that it was only their bite that created more of their own kind, that his daughter couldn't possibly be Remus' flesh and blood. No one ever mentioned that it was his body that had given her life. No one even knew it had been his flesh that had created hers. That it had been his flesh in Severus's flesh the night they had made her. That it had been his mouth that had turned down that happiness Remus Lupin had stolen from him!

That thought shocked him into reality.

Remus hadn't stolen anything. He had thrown that precious opportunity away himself for nothing more than the chance of a cheap laugh. Not only had he walked out on Severus at the moment he needed support the most, he had given him their child as his wizarding gift. A gift no wizard could recall. And before the one witness every wizard in the land would believe before they would believe him; Albus Dumbledore.

He could have been so happy. He could have held their little girl the very moment she was born. He could have comforted her at her first cry. He could have loved Severus, he knew he could. He knew that he did, that he had always loved him. That that knowledge had driven him to the edge of sanity, if not beyond it. That he, the great womaniser of legend, should fall in love with another man, and that man be Severus Snape; a Slytherin no less! Only his pride had always stopped him from admitting it, even to the point of trying to kill Severus all those years ago.

Now all he was left with were the slightly blurry newspaper photographs of Severus and Remus and his child held safely in a werewolf's arms.

And when Severus married Remus would he give their daughter another man's name? It was yet another question that ravaged his soul.

They had called her Harriet, after her godfather, at least he now knew her first name. He could only guess if Harry was proud of her. Harry didn't contact him any more and returned his letters unread. They had even stolen his godson from him!

Oh, if he were only honest with himself he would have to admit no one had stolen Harry's affection from him. He'd thrown it away by his own hand when he had thrown away any chance of knowing Harriet. When Albus had told Harry of his actions and words that night Harry had chosen to support Severus. And if he were being honest with himself, he knew that Harry had chosen the right side, the just side.

At least Harry got to know his godfather's daughter, knew he was her biological father. He had looked so proud as he held her at her naming ceremony. Of course that too had made the newspaper front cover. In colour no less.

Harriet had black hair.

He looked at the latest photograph of his Severus, their child and his former friend.

"If I begged, would you let me know my child?" he asked their images. The photograph continued its silent pageantry of smiles and waves, ignoring him as any newspaper photograph would. It wasn't as if they would send a more sophisticated photograph to him. Why would they, he already knew what he had thrown away.

"Oh, Sirius, when will you ever grow up?" And as often as he asked himself that question he still had no answer to give himself.

OoO

Fin

OoO

The title of this story comes from Shakespeare: The Merchant of Venice, to be exact, and the full quote is: It is a wise father that knows his own child. I only took it right out of context.


End file.
